


Hate to Love You

by dreamcreek



Category: DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Rating: NC17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 17:52:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamcreek/pseuds/dreamcreek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kon wants to help. Like how Tim always did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hate to Love You

Title: Hate to Love You  
Character: Kon/Tim  
Warning: Angst. Wangst. Sexual intercourse.  
Rating: NC-17  
Summary: Kon wants to help. Like how Tim always did.  
Disclaimer: I have not claim over these characters. I do not own them nor do I make any profit from these stories.

 

Hate to Love You

“…Robin,”

Kon was worried. Two years of missing information. Two years of drastic changes and turmoil. Two years without being there for Tim.

“I don’t go by that name anymore, Superboy,”

Kon shifts on the roof overlooking Gotham. He doesn’t how to treat this Robin. This Tim.

Tim is overlooking Gotham without even taking a second to glance at Superboy. He’s just staring, dangerously close to the edge of the roof, and stays silent. Kon shifts again, awkward as the words he wants to say, *needs* to say, stay stuck in his throat. He swallows and opens his mouth.

“You know, if you want to go home, Dick and the others are waiting for you. You’re still Ro-“

“That name was ripped away and then given to a 10 year old child with an attitude the size of his over-inflated ego. I’m pretty sure Dick made a firm statement on exactly who he wants,” Tim intones, flat and sharp, and Kon winces.

“Don’t be a stranger, Tim,” Kon says softly, walking closer to his fellow colleague, his *best friend*, to clasp a hand on Tim’s shoulder. Tim catches it and twists it in a way that makes Kon yelp in surprise. That actually hurt.

Tim is staring at him now, from the blank white eyeholes of his cowl, and Kon’s throat is dry and he feels his heart thud heavily in this chest. He clenches his captive hand and sees for the first time that the person he is staring at is the Red Robin. This wasn’t Tim Drake or even Robin. This was a man he didn’t know. A man Kon was a stranger to.

Red Robin’s lips twists into a parody of smile, cruel and cold. Kon shivers and stands still as Red Robin presses a button on his cowl and Kon’s sensitive ears hears the beeping of small machines making the removal of the cowl safe, before it was off.

Tim’s electric blue eyes bore into his even as cowlicks and tufts of his messy hair half-obscured them. His sardonic smile was still in place and Kon gives a yelp as Tim yanks him forward. Shit, but Tim had gotten *stronger*. Just how much had he changed?

“It’s been two years, Kon. A man can change in that time,” Tim practically purrs, his smile now a dark smirk, and Kon wonders when Tim has been this dark, this bleak with his oppressing and dangerous aura.

“Tim,” Kon whispers and wonders how long Tim has been torturing himself like this.

How long has the young, broken man allowed his wounds to fester, his guilt to build up, and for his grief to overwhelm him? Kon’s throat prickles and he tightens his hold on Tim’s hand. Tim’s eyes flash with an emotion Kon can’t decipher and Tim throws his hand away in a sharp move. Kon pushes down his emotions of rejection and pain to look at Tim.

Stoic and ramrod-straight, Tim’s face is undecipherable, even more so than usual. Kon licks his lips and take a step forward. Tim’s neck bulges and he grits his teeth. Kon takes another step and now they’re intimately close, their noses brushing at everything breath they take. Kon can see the tense muscles, the thudding heartbeat rising, and Kon raises his hand to caress Tim’s face. His hair, his forehead, his cheeks, and finally his lips, he delicately brushes them with shaking fingers. Tim stands through it all, staring into Kon’s eyes.

“…Tim, why are you doing this to yourself?” Kon whispers, his voice hoarse, and Tim’s face twists into one of anguish and self-hatred.

“It’s none of your damn business what I do to myself,” Tim mutters harshly and he turns away and leans even closer to the edge.

Kon’s breath catches in his throat as he stares helplessly at the bitter figure Tim makes. Kon wants to hug Tim and caress that worn, tired face. He wants to kiss him and take away all the sadness Tim has undergone. Kon wants…

“Tim. Tim, it’s *me*,” Kon pleads as he walks closer. Tim tenses further and further every foot, every inch, every goddamn centimeter Kon takes, as if Tim is hyper aware of Kon.

“Tim, stop doing *this*.” Kon continues and he envelops Tim in a hug, the prickles of tears welling up. “You’re killing yourself.”

Tim stays silent and tense, and Kon can hear the tiny noises his teeth make every time Tim clenches them even further. Kon nuzzles at the base of Tim’s neck and breathes in. It smells of leather, Kevlar, spice, sweat, and *Tim*. But he can also smell *blood*, *fear*…*hatred*. They coil tightly in Tim’s heart, oily disgusting things that squirm and thrash.

Kon is more than surprised when out of the blue Tim spins around in his embrace and drags his head down for a bruising kiss. Kon makes a noise of shock and Tim nips at his mouth hard enough for it to even sting a little. Kon opens his mouth unconsciously and Tim abuses the insides, mapping and nipping at his tongue, dragging a wet, slick tongue across gums. Tongues flirt and flit about, and Kon can’t help but *moan* and drag Tim closer.

Past the blood, past the hatred, past the nightmares that continues to haunt him, Kon just wants to taste *Tim*.

“Tim, Tim, *Tim*. Gods, what do you do to me?” Kon gasps, nuzzling Tim’s nose with his own as he fits small, fleeting kisses on Tim’s mouth. He holds Tim even closer, and wishes Tim would loosen, that he would stop tensing as if he’s going to be hit. Kon wishes Tim to see him again. To see Kon.

Tim doesn’t answer back but he looks at him with eyes full of emotions. Kon just brushes his lips to Tim’s again and Tim shudders before kissing back fiercely.

It was like the fall of dominos. Tim has his outfit off and Kon’s pants were half down and they were touching each other and groaning in each other’s mouths. The entire time, Tim never says his name. A moan, a gasp, but never once did Tim utter his name.

When Kon has three slick fingers in Tim, with lube Tim conveniently had, the prepared bastard, he twists and brushes against the prostate until Tim was muffling his screams by stuffing his glove into his mouth. Kon nips at Tim’s throat and yanks out the glove. Tim looks at him with panicked eyes, but Kon just rubs his prostate even more firmly and then sucks in half of Tim’s cock.

Tim emits a breathy but distressed whine that irritates Kon. Why couldn’t Tim let himself go? Why couldn’t Tim trust him?

“Tim,” he breathes, his hot breath on Tim’s cock making it bob. “Tim, let yourself go.”

“Nnngh,” Tim whimpers like an injured animal and shakes his head. Kon snarls and presses firmly inside of Tim. Tim arches his back at an inhumane angle and lets out a small scream that he tries to muffle with his hands.

“Tim. Tim, *it’s ok*. Tim, just let yourself go,” Kon mutters, fervently, and he’s pressing in and Tim is gives a keen as he arches even impossibly further. Kon stretches as much as possible to lick Tim’s arched navel to travel his way up to Tim’s neck.

Then he moves in slow, smooth thrusts and Tim is *tight*. Gods, he wonders, *Gods*, has Tim ever had sex since he was gone? He gets a rush of possessiveness and animalistic pleasure knowing that Tim might’ve not let anyone touch him for two years. Tim probably hadn’t let any many near him.

It takes all his willpower not to just plow on in and ravage Tim’s body. Instead, he’s building it up and moaning at how good it feels, at the smacks and squelches their jointed bodies make. Kon moans and lets his TTK touch Tim, know Tim. Tim wails, softly, and Kon snaps and pulls out. Tim, this time, gives a whine of pain, and arches his body and Kon just flips him unto his knees and hands and pushes in again.

“Tim,” he grunts, holding that lithe, writhing body. “Tim, come on Tim, say it, say *it*.”

Tim wails as Kon ups the tempo and pounds into him. His TTK is pinching Tim’s hardening nipples, teasing his leaking cock, and Tim utters low, heady moans. Kon nuzzles the back of Tim’s neck and lifts the man unto his lap as if he were a toy.

They both moan at the deeper angle and Kon shifts in a way that makes Tim give a shout. Kon smirks and thrusts up. The ‘ahs’ and ‘ohs’ Tim is moaning out makes Kon thrust harder.

“Kon, Kon, *Kon*!” Kon feels the rush of victory as Tim finally falls apart and chants his name.

*This* is what he wanted. For Tim to fall apart. For Tim to acknowledge him, to see him. He wants Tim to say his name, to scream it and know that it was Kon who was making Tim fall apart. It gives him a dose of possessiveness and smugness, knowing that he held this kind of power over Tim.

“*Tim*. Gods, Tim, you drive me *craz*y,” Kon cusses as Tim tightens around him. “*Shit*! Gods, *love you*.”

Kon has the urge to see Tim’s face. He stops himself, and Tim gives a sobbing desperate mewl and starts to thrust his hips helplessly, and Kon just twists Tim so that their facing each other. Kon then starts moving as soon as he sees Tim’s face.

Devastated and flushed, Tim has tears in his eyes. Whether from the influx of pleasure or from the overdose of conflicting emotions, Kon isn’t sure. Kon just surges forward to kiss him messily and hungrily and stares into Tim’s eyes.

Tim pulls back from the kiss after a moment, but doesn’t break eye contact. They stare at each other, hungrily, fondly, and Tim finally *breaks* as Kon plants a loving forehead kiss.

“Kon…I’ve missed you,” Tim whispers, half-broken and hoarse.

Kon looks steadily into Tim’s eyes and gives him a crooked smile that’s half-relieved and half-heartbroken. He slips Tim’s hands into his own and caresses them.

“I know, missed you too Tim,” Kon whispers back and Tim gives a sob that breaks and heals Kon’s heart.

He slows the pace and utters soothing noises at Tim’s heart wrenching whimpers. He rocks in and out of Tim slowly, brushing and rubbing at his prostate. Tim clenches their joined hands and kisses Kon’s fingertips. Kon’s heart swells.

“Love you. I love you Kon,” Tim murmurs. He then closes his eyes and presses his forehead against Kon’s shoulder.

Kon drags their jointed hands so Tim’s arm encases him and drags his own arms to hold unto Tim’s shaking body.

“Sorry I wasn’t there Tim,” Kon apologizes and grips Tim’s cock and starts to stroke.

“Missed you. Missed you so much. Wanted you back. I just wanted you *back*. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Kon,” Tim sobs and Kon drags his palm over Tim’s cock.

They both let loose low moans as they cum at the same time. Tim’s body is trembling and wrecked and Kon isn’t much better. They hold each other and swipe away tears with hesitant fingers and sweeping tongues. They’re both apologizing and crying, but it was ok, it was *alright*.

They were together again.


End file.
